


The Point

by ilovemygaydad



Category: Sander Sides, Sanders Sides, Thomas Sanders, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Abuse Mentions, Alcohol, Cigarettes, Depression, M/M, Suicidal Thoughts, stupid poeticness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-19
Updated: 2018-01-19
Packaged: 2019-03-06 16:41:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13415370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ilovemygaydad/pseuds/ilovemygaydad
Summary: It’s 1:30 in the fucking morning, and Logan Sanders finds himself sitting in an alley smoking.





	The Point

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry if the formatting’s all messed up!

Logan took another drag of his cigarette. It was, what, the fourth one of the night, but honestly Logan didn’t care. These things would kill him, and the sooner he got off this planet the better. Smoke curled from his lips and dissipated into the chilly night air, illuminated briefly by the alley’s only light. Cold was seeping through the thin clothes Logan was wearing, but whatever. It didn’t matter.

  
“Those things are poison, you know,” a voice erupted, piercing through the silence like an arrow. “They’ll kill you.”

  
Logan laughed his signature cynical laugh. “That’s kinda the point, believe it or not.”

  
The person sat down next to him. Logan didn’t know why; he hadn’t invited the stranger to sit. He heard the sloshing of liquid, though, and looked over to see a boy about his age drinking straight from a bottle of vodka. Hypocrite.

  
“That stuff’s poison, you know?” Lo mimicked. The boy smirked and pulled his letterman jacket closer around him. He took another drink, not even flinching from the taste, and rested his head back on the wall.

  
“That’s kinda the point.”

  
The two sat in silence for a few minutes before the boy picked up another conversation. “You new to town?”

  
Such a mundane question, yet it held so much weight. “How’d you guess?”

  
“Well,” the boy started. “I’ve been coming to this alley for the past three years and have never seen you, not to mention that your lanyard is spirit wear from a school a few towns away.”

  
Logan laughed. “Yeah, I guess it’s pretty obvious.” He took another long drag. He would need to start on a new cigarette soon.

  
“So what’s your death wish about, stranger?” The boy quirked his eyebrow and gestured to the pack of cigarettes on the concrete.

  
“I’ve got no friends, my ex boyfriend was just with me for sex, my parents are in the process of getting a divorce, and now I’m at a whole new school. Oh, and I got rejected from all of the colleges that I applied to. And I’m almost failing all of my classes,” Lo listed to this stranger who might literally murder him. But who cares, right? That’s his motto.

  
“Oof, that’s harsh.”

  
They sat in quiet once more, though Logan was the one to break this time. “What about you? Why are you downing a bottle of vodka at 1:30 am?”

  
The boy laughed, the noise ringing like bells through the alley. “I have a seemingly perfect life: I could have any girl I wish, I get straight As, and I’m talented beyond belief. But behind the scenes, I’m physically abused by my parents, my best friends do nothing but bitch about me behind my back, I’m so far in the closet that I have no idea how to get out, and I have a cocktail of prescription drugs trying to regulate my brain in my system at all times.”

  
“You win,” Logan conceded, stamping his cigarette butt under his foot and lighting another. _Five_. He didn’t even have the opportunity to take a drag before the boy next to him acted.

  
“I’m going to be completely honest when I say that I’m not really thinking straight—haha—but I’m going to kiss you now.” In an instant, a hand was resting on Logan’s waist, creeping ever so slightly under his untucked shirt, and a warm set of lips greedily met his own. He brought his hands up to the boy’s face, pulling him so close that it was difficult to tell where Logan ended and the boy began.

  
They remained like this—kissing under the light pollution—for what felt like hours. In some ridiculous way, it was poetic, but it was mostly just pathetic. But that’s sometimes all that poetry is.


End file.
